‘Do you really expect me to forget last night so easily?’ His voice deepened, the sensual tones sending an exotic shiver all over her.
‘It is what you wanted.’ She kept her words firm, not wanting him to know just how much she really wished he couldn’t forget last night.
‘Things have changed.’
‘What things?’
‘You gave me a precious gift and after such a gift I do not intend to turn my back on you yet.’
Destiny’s mind fumbled for answers. What was he talking about? ‘A gift?’
He stepped closer to her and she had to fight the urge to close her eyes against his scent. ‘You gave me your virginity, Destiny. Have you any idea how potent that is? Or what it means to me?’
‘I don’t understand.’ Was he saying he still wanted her, that what they’d shared was special?
‘You are now mine.’ His voice had softened, becoming so sensually seductive it was impossible to do anything other than look up at him, into the unfathomable darkness of his eyes. Her heart raced. Zafir didn’t want to turn his back on her or the passion they’d shared, but his next fierce words shattered that illusion. ‘I will come to your suite tonight.’
So it was all about possession—his possession of her.
Before she could say anything else, Zafir’s aide came briskly towards them and she wondered how long he’d been near and if he’d seen them or, worse still, heard Zafir’s words.
The thought of Zafir returning to her suite this evening sent ripples of excitement through her, despite his obvious domination. The tingles of excitement intensified as he looked across at her, the first sparks of desire in his eyes, and she could barely walk calmly beside the two men as they made their way along the maze of corridors.
Once again, Zafir stopped abruptly as they neared the guest suites. His aide thankfully walked ahead and then paused, but the suspicious frown on his face didn’t disappear when Zafir moved close enough to her to whisper quietly, ‘I will send your maid.’
‘Mina? Why?’
‘Doesn’t every woman enjoy being pampered? Especially when she is expecting her lover.’ His dark brows snapped together, but the polite cough of his aide prevented anything further and Destiny was left to watch him turn and stride away in a flurry of white cloth.
Was that what she now was? His lover?
Very soon, Zafir’s intentions became clear when Mina all but forced her into a deep scented bath and began what Zafir had referred to as pampering. Did he ensure all his women were treated this way? Was she now one of his women? His latest mistress?
* * *
Zafir made his way through the palace gardens as night fell. All afternoon he’d thought of nothing else but Destiny, her soft pale skin, her silky hair and brown eyes which always held a hint of shyness. She was there in his mind with everything he did and had been since he’d first seen her that day at her home. Last night had only intensified that.
He thought again of the moment he’d realised she was a virgin. Had she any idea of the implications of allowing him to be the man who took that from her? She should have told him. It was something he’d needed to know, something he’d had no right to take. Deep down he was profoundly glad she hadn’t said anything because, if she had, his conscience would never have allowed him to make love to her and he would never have known such completeness as he’d experienced last night. It had been so intense, as if they were destined to have come together.
His body hummed with anticipation as he entered the small private garden of her suite. He expected to find a contented and pampered Destiny waiting for his arrival, but she sat curled on the cushions in the living area of her suite, a cold and distant expression on her beautiful face as she looked up at him.
‘Would you mind telling me what this is all about?’ She held out her arms to show off the silk of her outfit, the kind worn by women all over his country, giving them modesty, but on Destiny it fuelled his ardour, making him want nothing more than to remove the bright coloured silk. The short tone of her words was the only thing holding him back from taking her in his arms and continuing what they had started last night.
‘You did not enjoy the pampering?’ He was so stunned he couldn’t move and strangely found himself not in control of either his emotions or the situation.
‘Any woman would enjoy all that has been lavished on me this afternoon—if they were a woman of your harem.’ The last words were spat at him, reminding him of the feral cats that roamed the old city’s streets, hissing and spitting if anyone got too close.
Despite his earlier reassurances, she truly believed he had a harem—and that she was now one of his women! The idea was so absurd he laughed, which only irritated her further. With fury burning in her eyes she stood up, looking almost as lovely as she had when passion and desire had replaced her usual shyness last night.
‘I do not have a harem. That is not my way. I am a man of honour and have been faithful to any woman I have had a relationship with, as I will to my future wife from the moment our marriage is announced.’ A sliver of guilt sliced through him. He had honoured the rules his father had instilled in him as a teenager. He’d kept his affairs brief and far away from the palace—until last night. Honour was something he believed in as strongly as duty. Nothing would ever change that, not even a beautiful Western woman who’d sent spirals of turmoil through his life from the moment he’d first set eyes on her.
‘So why this?’ Again she held her arms wide, the silk of the gown she wore clinging to her curves in a way he’d never noticed on other women.
‘I thought only of your comfort. You work hard. Hot dusty work. I thought you’d appreciate feeling more feminine.’
‘Well, I certainly feel more feminine now.’ She walked across the room away from him and sat at the farthest point she could, but he would not be deterred. His body still hungered for her, still wanted her, and he knew she was far from indifferent to him. Just as he had when he’d led the life of a single man, he was enjoying the chase, the challenge.
He poured a cool drink, passing her one, then purposefully walked towards her before taking a seat opposite her. He took a sip of the cool lemonade he’d learnt she was partial to and then placed his glass on a nearby table.
‘That pleases me.’ He held her gaze as a spark of attraction fizzed around them. ‘And now I’d like to talk.’
‘Talk?’
He might want to take her to bed and make her his once more, but after last night he needed to know more about her life, her reasons for making such a hard deal with him. Somehow she’d ensnared his interest, his passion and all he wanted was to know more—much more.
Her defensive attitude warned him he needed to use caution—that she could bolt as easily as an unbroken horse. He had no idea why, but he couldn’t let her go now. Not yet.
‘Yes, talk. Do you have an objection to that?’
‘No.’ She looked doubtful but her voice was much less defensive. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
He knew he should address the concerns his aide had tentatively raised only hours after his aide had seen him leaving her room. He’d been warned she would be expecting more than he could give. The direct and unusually outspoken but trusted aide’s voice was grating on his nerves. Were the palace walls so alive that his night with this woman had become common knowledge?
The thought angered him as much as the marriage he must make for the good of his country. He was not ready for that commitment yet, but had no choice. He needed an heir.
* * *
Destiny’s mind whirled. Zafir had sent Mina to pamper her until the whole suite was fragranced with new and exotic smells. She’d dressed her in gorgeous new silks and, although the maid had said nothing, Destiny was sure she’d known it was her ruler’s intention to visit her at nightfall. He might not have a harem, but it appeared that spending the night in a woman’s suite was accepted and maybe expected.
Now she sat alone, far from relaxed, and try
ing to put aside the hurt that he thought he could make her little better than his mistress while she’d given him her heart. Not that she’d ever let him know that.
The only sounds in the suite were those of the desert at night but, inside her head, her heart was thumping as she waited. Anger at his assumption she would go along with his demands and excitement at seeing him again, of having him to herself for a few short hours, mixed together in a swirl of confusion, making her light-headed. When he’d silently walked in from the inky blackness of the palace gardens he’d looked even more magnificent than he had last night. This time he wore his robes, their whiteness stark against the darkness behind him, and she had to fight the urge to go to him, to accept anything he was offering because this time he was Zafir, the Sheikh of Kezoban, a man to be obeyed.
‘We need to talk, Zafir,’ she said as firmly as she could manage, but the husky undertone to her voice didn’t sound very convincing and she resisted the urge to add that she wanted to clarify that he expected nothing more of her because she didn’t want to expose herself to the pain of love. She couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for him and would have to guard her heart against it because she didn’t want to be like her mother.
‘Yes, we do.’ He stood before her, as regal and handsome as he looked standing in his office as the ruler of Kezoban. ‘I would like to know more about you, more of your time in England.’
His dark eyes never left her face and, even though distance separated them, she could feel him close to her. Her body was warm and content after last night, wanting more of those wonderful hours spent in his arms. She wanted to be his once more.
‘Is this some sort of test to see if I am suitable mistress material for the supreme Sheikh of Kezoban?’ She couldn’t alter her defensive attitude. It was her wall of protection. Behind that wall she was safe, able to control whatever it was that had leapt to life between them last night as soon as his lips had touched hers, as if he’d branded her his.
‘There is only one woman who can be suitable, as you know. The woman I select to be my wife, the mother of my heirs.’ His tone had changed to icy-cold and she knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she needed to play it, needed to cruelly prove to herself there wasn’t any future in wanting a man such as Zafir Al Asmari, Sheikh of Kezoban.
‘So what are you doing here?’ Her heart broke a little as the implications of his words sliced through her. She’d lost her virginity to him, given him her heart, yet she would never be anything else to him other than just another woman. She would never be suitable.
‘It is my belief that our paths were destined to cross, as your name suggests. You were meant to be here, meant to heal Majeed. I see now that you have healed me, enabled me to move on to the next chapter of my life.’ The firmness of his words left her in no doubt that he actually believed everything he’d just said, but what about the things he hadn’t said? Did he believe it was his right to take her heart and break it, while she healed his?
Anger simmered dangerously close to the surface.
‘And what is that next chapter? Your marriage?’ Why did she feel so disillusioned? She’d known long before his scorching kiss that he was about to take a wife, that he needed a son. Even as she’d given herself to him, she’d known there would be nothing beyond that night. He’d made that perfectly clear and she’d thought she was in control. His presence here again tonight proved how wrong she’d been. He had been in control all along.
He stood and came towards her. Her heart fluttered at a ridiculous rate, making her light-headed.
‘I want to know why.’ He sat next to her, the exotic spices of his scent opening up memories of their night together, making images of their bodies entwined on the white sheets of her bed spring to mind.
‘Why what?’
‘You were a virgin, Destiny. Why me? Why last night?’ He leant towards her, his dark eyes heavy with desire. Was he recalling their first night together as vividly as she was?
‘I wanted to give myself to a man who wouldn’t ask for more, a man who couldn’t have any control over my feelings.’ Heat rushed over her, colouring her cheeks and she lowered her lashes. How could he ask her that so boldly, so calmly, as if he had a right to know everything about her?
‘What did you hope to gain, coming to Kezoban?’
‘Gain?’ Shock raced through her. He thought she’d slept with him for gain? Fury quickly doused all other emotions. ‘I have only one thing to gain from being here in your country.’
‘And that is?’ His heavy brows rose, arching in total superiority. What had she been thinking, giving herself to this man, falling for him like a teenager? He was nothing if not in total control of everyone and everything. He was worse than her father.
‘My freedom.’
Now it was his turn to be shocked and she enjoyed the moment of satisfaction that she’d been able to knock the wind from him. But it was short-lived. As ever, he was quickly back in control, quickly able to hide his emotions behind a stern and commanding expression.
‘Explain.’ The order was all but snarled at her.
He’d baited her long enough, see-sawing her emotions from extreme highs to lows at his whim and now she was angry.
‘My father is exactly like you.’
He laughed, a bitter sound, his contempt clear. ‘That is not possible.’
‘Oh, but it is. He is cold, hard and equally as driven as you, but the trait you have in common is the need to control people, to dominate.’ The tirade wouldn’t stop and all her hurt from the past collided with her confusion about this man, making an explosive cocktail. ‘I only agreed to be here so that, like my sister, I could escape his and my stepmother’s rule. I need to finally begin my life now that I no longer have to look out for Milly.’
‘Explain.’ Again that one word snapped out in a furious command.
‘My mother married my father when she realised she was expecting me. It was a marriage that would not have happened otherwise. She loved him but he did not love her. I wish I could have asked her more about it, but sadly she died giving birth to my sister. As Milly and I grew up, my father became harder and more controlling. I have helped Milly to set herself up in London and now I intend to do the same.’
‘And that is why you drove such a hard bargain before agreeing to come to Kezoban?’
‘Precisely. When I thought I was dealing with your aide—if you remember?’
‘Then it is wealth you crave?’
‘Why else would I be here? Why else would I have tried to seduce you?’
If he thought she was only sitting here with him, dressed like a woman from a sultan’s harem, to get as much as possible financially from him, then so much the better. He wouldn’t want to whisper tantalising sweet nothings as they made love and her heart would be safe. It would make creating distance between them so much easier.
‘If it is only money you want, then I have a new deal to put to you.’
‘What kind of deal?’ Her head spun. He’d turned the tables yet again to his advantage. Once more he was in control.
‘In less than three weeks I have to announce my marriage. Arranged marriages are not made for anything other than material gain. Therefore, I want to enjoy my remaining weeks as an unmarried man—with you.’
What was he trying to say? ‘You mean you want to buy me? Pay me to be your mistress until you take a wife?’
Shock raced around her like lightning across a black sky. How could that one passion-filled night have come to this? He’d made it very clear that they would only have one night and now he was dangling more, much more, before her, tempting her, but would it be enough? Instinctively, she knew she had to be as cold and calculating as he was. She had to demand more from him, be the woman he obviously thought she was.
‘I want only to make a deal that will give us both what we want.’ He snapped the words out, his impatience as clear as a star-filled night.
‘Very well. Double our original deal.’ She kep
t her voice hard and her face set firmly as she looked at him, wishing with all her heart he was asking her to stay because he wanted her. How could she still want him, still hunger for anything he could give? Her childhood had taught her there was only one way to deal with such a man—to stay behind her protective barrier and be equally as cold.
* * *
Irritation and anger infused Zafir as Destiny made her demands, just as she’d done the day he’d first seen her. At least this time he knew her motives. His aide had been right, but that still didn’t lessen the sexual chemistry which sizzled between them.
For the first time ever he didn’t care about anything else. He wanted her—at whatever cost, emotional or financial, he didn’t care. He had to spend every available minute with her before he entered into a contracted marriage, one that duty to his kingdom and guilt for the loss of his sister demanded he made.
‘It doesn’t have to be so businesslike,’ he said softly and moved towards her, wanting to abandon himself once more to the ecstasy he’d found last night. Now she’d named her price and they’d struck a deal, he wanted to bring things back to how they’d been last night, when they had been nothing more than lovers coming together. A brief and passionate interlude in time.
She didn’t move away from him and the parting of her lips told him all he needed to know. Despite her rigid posture as she sat among the cushions, she was as drawn to him as he was her. As compelled by desire as she had been last night. She was still his.
‘But we have just made a deal. Doesn’t that mean it is business?’ Her voice was a whisper. Only hints of her earlier bravado lingered.
‘We have just discussed the terms of our deal, yes, terms that will give us both what we want.’ He stroked the back of his finger down the softness of her cheek, the quickly drawn in breath telling him all he needed to know. ‘Now forget it. We need to explore the fire between us until it dwindles to cool embers.’
The Sheikh's Last Mistress (Harlequin Presents) Page 9
